


It's Nearly Domestic

by mintsinthemug



Series: Falling Up [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Anorexia Recovery, Craig is sensitive and recovering, Eating Disorder Recovery, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Token is a good boyfriend, im only a little sorry, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6482947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintsinthemug/pseuds/mintsinthemug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"The scene, sitting across from Craig and eating a nice little meal, was horribly domestic. Or it could be, if Token wasn't so distracted. Eating had become a bit of an analytical game."<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Nearly Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of a venting fic so Craig and Token get to suffer at my expense. I love this ship, honestly. 
> 
>  
> 
> I swear I'm going to work on SMS&OI someday. Just not today.

“Hey uh Craig?” Craig looked up from his hands, placing the cigarette back between his lips and stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
“What Tweekers?” He asked around the stick in his mouth.  
Tweek taps his front teeth on the edge of his thermos for a moment, taking a quick sip. “You ah-alright man? You don’t look so good,” He asks, drawing the attention of Clyde and Token.

Craig snorted, bringing a hand to rub at the dark circles under his eyes before pushing strands of dark hair from his eyes. “Thanks, seriously. I thought I was looking good today too,” He drawled, looking at Tweek hard before cracking the barest smirk and pushing the shorter boy’s shoulder gently. Tweek squints at him before nodding and ducking back behind his thermos.

Clyde, brash and blunt as he is, carries the matter. “Nah, Tweek’s right. You look tired. And thin! A toddler could grab both of your wrists in one hand. I swear dude, you’re light as a feather-”

“Clyde,” Craig says, face blank and eyes straight ahead though Token sees Craig’s fingers twitch to grab at the cuff of his too long sleeves. Clyde plows through, oblivious. _Idiot_ ,Token thinks viciously.

“I’m serious! You should come with me to Taco Hell more and we can get some meat on your bones, you thin motherfuck-” Before Clyde even finishes his sentence, Craig is off like a shot, sneakers slapping the pavement as he bolts. His cigarette lays, still smoldering, where he had been standing. Token swears under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face before shooting Clyde a glare and running after Craig.

He finds Craig a few blocks away, curled up on porch of the Tucker house. He’s got his knees pressed against his chest and his fingers looped around his wrist. Token huffs and tries not to look so out of breath when he trots up the creaky steps. “Hey,”

Craig doesn’t look up, just sniffs and holds his wrist up so the Token can see the space left in the loop his fingers have made around it. Token slides his handover Craig’s wrist and holds it, knocking his other hand away. “Stop it,” He sighs when Craig looks at the ground, hiding his face behind his hair. Token keeps talking anyways “Clyde is a fucking moron and doesn’t know when he crosses his boundaries. He didn’t mean anything by it man, I promise,”

They stay like that, Token holding Craig’s thin arm and Craig with his head nearly between his own legs. Token starts when he hears a breathy sob and watches in slight horror as Craig’s shoulders begin to tremble. “Craig?” He drops to his knees without a second thought to his nice jeans or how his mother would kill him for ruining them. Gently, he brings his boyfriend’s chin up and wipes at the raven haired boy’s cheek with his thumb. “You’re parents home?” He asks quickly, eyes flicking up to the house that looks pretty dark. Craig, thankfully shakes his head.

“Dinner party- sister’s out too,” Token nods and pulls Craig up, even when the kid had hit 6’2 before him, he looks so small now. Hunched in on himself, he follows Token inside, fingers clenched around the fabric of the back of Token’s coat.

He chucks his bag and flops onto the couch to curl up again, his entire frame trembling as he cries. Token takes a moment to slip off his coat and shoes by the door before sitting next to Craig and carefully pulling him closer.

“He- he’s fucking right, Token. He’s right but _dammit_!” Craig swings out, hitting a couch pillow hard. “I’m eating, I am. You know I am, you pack my damn lunches! I- I don’t look better though, I-” He sniffles, wiping his nose on his sleeve and Token is thrown back to little 6th grader Craig who cried when Clyde dumped him or when he got his ass kicked by Bebe.

“I know, and thats really great man. You’re eating a healthy diet and I’m really proud. But dude, the weight is easier to lose than it is to gain, you have to eat a steady amount or else you’ll end up right back in a hospital again,” He rubs a hand over Craig’s side, feeling the fading ridges of his ribs “Sides, you’re what? One forty five now? That’s really good, Craig,” There’s a huff and Craig leans against him. They sit in silence, Craig catching his breath, Token tracing patterns on his side and back. Craig curls in on himself a bit tighter as his stomach growls, doing that thing when he presses his fingers into his gut to get it to quiet down. Token frowns.

“Craig, what’d you eat for lunch?”

Craig tenses up, eyes dark and locked on a spot just beyond Token.

“The food you packed me,”

“So if I went and checked your bag, it’d all be gone?”

Theres a silence that echoes before Token slides Craig off his lap and heads for the backpack slung carelessly near the door. Rooting past the papers and notebooks he grimaces to find the sub sandwich crushed and flattened in its plastic wrap. “Craig…” He sighs as he stands, walking towards the kitchen.

Craig doesn’t answer, watching his boyfriend with narrow dark eyes.

He gets a response though, when Token says “I’m making you dinner. And you’re eating seconds if you can stomach it,”

“Token, wait no-” Craig is scrambling off the couch, long legs slipping as he stumbles around the furniture to join the shorter boy in the kitchen. “ _Token_ , come on. That sandwich was like a hundred and fifty calories at least, cut me some slack-”

“I am cutting you slack by not calling the doctor and telling him you’re skipping out on lunch. Is this the only time you’ve skimped out?” Token cuts him off coldly, tossing the mushy remains of the sub into the trash and pulling out the supplies he’d need. He looks over and can’t help but soften as Craig wraps his arms around himself.

“Yeah,” His eyes snap up to meet Token’s own. “I swear! Its the only time,” He says and Token believes him.

“Why?”

This gets Craig going quiet again for a few moments and Token busies himself by scanning the fridge for some vegetables and a precooked meat.

“Bebe was saying shit in first period about how _good_ skinny looks and she was passing around one of those really go- bad magazines with the super tiny models and I sit right next to her so of course I saw and I just, its so stupid. I don’t even fucking _care_ what Bebe thinks but god it did look good, Token. And then Kenny and the guys were talking and shit, did you know Kenny is one thirty five? He’s nearly as tall as me, yeah? And he isn’t unhealthy, he looks good- I mean-”

Token has stopped to listen, letting the rice and water he had been setting up on the stove boil as Craig spoke. Craig’s voice caught as he met eyes with Token and quickly looked away. “I just wanted to drop a few. It was so stupid, sorry, _fuck_ I’m such a dumbass-,”

Token cuts him off, stepping forward and continuing forward until his got Craig trapped against the counter. “No you’re not. I’m a little upset you didn’t talk to me about this but you’re telling me before you did any big damage so I’m not going to lecture you too much,” He places his hands on Craig’s sharp hips and leans up to kiss him quickly. “Kenny lives off sex, cheap beer, and hot pockets; I’m not surprised that his underweight. But he’s not competition. Repeat what I just said,”

Craig frowned, he'd always found this dumb as hell but would never admit that he felt a bit less terrible as he repeated Token. “Kenny is not competition,” Token nods, kisses him again and pulls away.

“Good. Rice, microwave vegetables, and chicken okay?” He's not really asking, Craig would have to eat it either way but the gesture was slightly appreciated.

“Can't we just make out instead?” It was a stupid trick, one that Token felt guilty for falling for when they first started dating. He shakes his head and smiles “Only after you eat. Set the table, babe,”

The scene, sitting across from Craig and eating a nice little meal, was horribly domestic. Or it could be, if Token wasn't so distracted. Eating had become a bit of an analytical game. Making sure Craig used a clear cup, and took real bites, didn't wipe his mouth on his napkin too much or for long enough to spit food out, didn't take too many drinks of water. They made conversation, complained about grades and Tokens parents who were still riding his ass about scholarships.

When they finished, Craig leaned back in his chair as Token checked his napkin and cup before giving Craig a rewarding kiss for choking down two helpings. Craig rolled his eyes, rubbed a hand self consciously over his slightly protruding stomach, and said

“Can we make out now?”


End file.
